All Souls Day

Today, the Benefice celebrated All Souls Day with a service in Cambo Church in the evening. It was very moving. I had reason to mourn, but nothing compared to others who were there.
I had not been to this service before, so did not know what to expect. It seemed to be aimed at those who were recently bereaved and were sorrowing in a big way. It did not, however, exclude people like me.
There was one young family who had lost the Mother at a very young age. A lady who recently lost her husband after 52 happy years together. A long list of names who meant much to someone but little to me. Whatever, there must have been comfort for all.
I was specifically remembering my first husband, who died last April and my cousin, who went a fortnight ago. Then, when I looked in the diary, I saw that G's brother died 5 years ago today. That was a tragic story. He had a daughter, whom he adored, who was living in Hong Kong. One Christmas, she caught a cold and did not manage to shake it off. Her doctor diagnosed lung cancer and so she came home. The centre of excellence in Newcastle did the best they could, but she died two or three days after her 48th birthday. The really awful thing was that about 6 months after her death, her mother began to have symptoms of bloating and nausia, pain etc which was wrongly diagnosed. In the end it was diagnosed as Ovarian cancer which had moved on. After a terrible time of lack of support - a rural address, away from public transport, and impossible to get proper in house help - no room in the Hospices, no help from the Community Hospice - she did get into a Hospice and finally died. Her sad husband, who had adored his daughter and was very dependent on his beloved wife, was left with his eldest son living across the yard and his other son in the south. Sadly, son and grand-daughters could not make up for the great loss he had suffered. I visited him every week and there was no doubt that he was slowly dying of a broken heart. He would not eat and turned to alcohol to dim the pain. When I reminded G that it was the anniversary of his death, he asked me to pray for him tonight. So, of course, I did.
In a strange way, this ties in with my ambition to get involved with bereavement councilling. I hugged the lady who was married for 52 years. One gets very close to people for a little while.
But the original reason why I blogged here tonight was not all this. It was the thoughts that I had during the service. When you are as old as I am, there are so many people who have gone to be with God. A young man who had a motorbike accident, a semi boy-friend. My best friend and her husband who were drowned together aged about 30, Much later, a number of friends who were killed in accidents, died of cancer. My Grandfather and then my Grandmother. My Father. My Mother. Quite recently, my nephew aged 37. My first husband. My cousin, for whose parents, I was bridesmaid. And many, many more.
I remember that my first husband's grandfather, who lived to be over 90, used to both cheer because he had outlived old so-and-so and was sad that he was amongst the last of his friends/aquaintences to be alive.
But this should not end on a sad note. All those who have gone are with God and those of us who are left are in his care - and I truly believe this.